


Happy Christmas Pill

by JustAnotherUnderstudy



Series: This Should Totally Be A Thing [47]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Christmas Smut, F/M, NSFW, Older Woman/Younger Man, Secret Relationship, inner thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:27:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherUnderstudy/pseuds/JustAnotherUnderstudy
Summary: Some observers think that James has a drinking problem. They don't fault him. He has a tough job and he needs a way to cope. But James' drug of choice has never been alcohol. His tastes are finer than that.
Relationships: James Bond/M, James Bond/M | Olivia Mansfield
Series: This Should Totally Be A Thing [47]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/579049
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Several months ago I heard the song "Happy Pill" and immediately thought, James and Olivia. Later I had a brief conversation with Tayryn about what James could wear for Christmas. Then this story happened.
> 
> Three chapters. So NSFW that Santa will definitely not be bringing you presents if you read this at work.
> 
> Here's the link for the song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tSVKwGekHMU

_Idle hands are the devil's best friend_  
_I got a place for both of them_  
_Come on, baby, won't you help me, please?_  
_Won't you help me, down on my knees_

Olivia stopped just inside the living room door and stared at the “package” beneath her Christmas tree.

‘That certainly wasn’t there when I Ieft for work this morning,’ she thought.

Beneath the tree lay James, propped up on his elbow, naked, but for a red ribbon tied at the base of his hard cock. He gently stroked his cock with his free hand watching her as she stood in the doorway.

She gave him a cold stare as she walked further into the room. Bond had been taking far too many liberties since her husband had died earlier in the year. Of course, she had no one to blame but herself. Not only did she never discourage him, she gave him a key to her flat.

When she sat in the chair facing the tree, she shifted to spread her legs. A soft intake of breath beneath the tree gave her reason to smirk.

“So you like what you see?” James said.

Her chest tightened but she remained outwardly stoic. He smirked up at her. She slowly swept her gaze over him.

"It is a," she paused and licked her lips. "Creative gift."

Then she leaned back in the seat and slouched at her hips slightly so she could spread her knees a little more.

"I look forward to using it appropriately," she said, her voice a low rumble.

James pushed himself up to his hands and knees. His look was predatory as he moved toward her.

He stopped in front of her and waited. Olivia refused to give him the satisfaction of the whine she locked purposefully in her throat. He gave her a knowing look.

"Get on with it then," she said, her voice held the command she knew he responded to best.

She was rewarded with a slight shiver as he knelt before her and reached for her feet.

Her shoes came off in two slow, smooth motions. Then his hands slid up her calves and under her skirt. His breath hitched when his fingers met the edge of her stockings and the straps of her garter.

Carefully, he unclipped each strap, then slowly removed her nylons without laddering them. Olivia gave him an approving smile and reached out to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch then took her hand in his and kissed her palm before he returned to his task.

He pushed her skirt up and bunched it at her waist. A quick glance up at her said he'd figured out, at the sight of the lacy panties, that she was expecting him tonight. The slight smile that followed assured her he would not disappoint.

Slowly, the lace was dragged down her legs and set aside with her stockings and shoes. He massaged his way back up her legs. When he reached her hips, he gripped them and tugged her closer to the edge of the chair. Before she could consider if she was going to be comfortable in that position, he buried his face between her legs.

Time was lost to Olivia as James tongue and lips and hands expertly brought her off. She came with a shout. She'd stopped fighting that indignity years ago.

When she caught her breath and came back to herself, James was helping her out of her clothes.

He knew full well she refused to take him anywhere but a bed so she wasn't surprised when he gathered her naked body to his in his arms. She reached up and pulled his lips to hers. They lingered in the kiss, Olivia enjoying the taste of herself on his lips.

"Let's see what else my gift can do," she said when she pulled away.

_I'm a gun, I'm a gun, won't you shoot me off?_  
_Trigger finger will, till I get my happy pill_  
_I'm a gun, I'm a gun, won't you get me off?_  
_Trigger finger will, oh, I want my happy pill_


	2. Chapter 2

_When I lay down in your bed_  
_I get a blood-rush to my head_  
_No, I never get to sleep at night_  
_'Cause I'm thinkin' 'bout you inside_

James gripped the bedsheets in a vain attempt to maintain control. One glance down at the woman hovering over him, his cock sheathed deep in her throat, ripped another shout from him. A good thing her walls had to be soundproof due to the nature of her job, he thought.

While Olivia sucked at his cock she simultaneously and rhythmically stroked his balls. James’ mind was so focused on the pleasure she was giving him that he was sure he'd be of no use if a crisis were to arise. It was a reward for a job well-done, she’d told him before licking the length of him. Whether that reward was for his own sexual abilities or the last hit she’d ordered, he didn’t know. The closer he got to the edge, the less it mattered.

Finally, he knew he had to stop her. As good as it felt, he wanted to be inside her, with her body wrapped around him, when he came.

“M,” he called out, his voice strangled with pleasure. “Please, I need to be in you.”

“Are you sure you’ll make it into me in time if I take the lovely wrapping off?” she asked when she pulled off.

Her normally husky voice was even deeper and lust surged like fire through him. He quickly sat up and pulled her to his lips before rolling over on top of her.

She had prepped herself for him earlier, but he checked again just to be sure. He found her moist enough and he began to sink in her with an excruciating slowness that was agony to them both. When he was nearly all the way inside, he reached down to untie the ribbon and pulled it away. Then he began to thrust into her.

His body was tense as he tried to hold back his orgasm, waiting for her. The tightness in his gut was painful and his mind was barely hanging on to the moment.

“James, cum,” she pleaded.

He grunted and shook his head. His eyes shut tight to preserve his self-control. If he looked at her, with her blown pupils and hair mussed from the sex they’d had so far, he would not be able to hold back.

“James, please,” she said. “It’s not going to happen right now.”

A vice-like grip twisted his heart when he heard her words. They were a reminder of the fact that he usually ignored, that she was getting older and the physical part of their relationship was changing.

Still, he shifted slightly to try another angle. He never was one to give up easily.

“James,” she barked out his name.

In her voice was a command he could not refuse and he obeyed instantly. For several moments he could not think. His mind blacked out with pleasure as he shot himself into her, thrusting without thought.

When he finished she sighed contentedly in his ear and rubbed his back. He kissed her neck and face gently, finishing at her lips to taste himself as she had tasted herself earlier. Then he turned them and pulled her into his arms as she shifted the covers over them. 

She hummed and settled more deeply into his embrace. Her slow, satisfied breaths blowing across his chest left goose pimples in their wakes.

“What a lovely gift, James,” she said, her voice soft with sleep. “Both useful and self-indulgent.”

He chuckled.

“Feel free to indulge in using me any time you wish, ma’am,” he told her.

_I'm a gun, I'm a gun, won't you shoot me off?_  
_Trigger finger will, till I get my happy pill_  
_I'm a gun, I'm a gun, won't you get me off?_  
_Trigger finger will, oh, I want my happy pill_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut's over, time for some inner thoughts. :)

James watched M as she crossed the living room to where he waited for her on the sofa. He had a fire prepared and the room was only dimly lit by the fire and the lights on the Christmas tree.

He recognized that look and James stamped down the regret that threatened. He couldn’t allow it for an instant or else he’d threaten everything. The line he and M walked was as tenuous as a tightrope strung across the Thames. One false move by either of them as they maneuvered it could destroy the other.

She settled herself next to him, then allowed him to take her back into his arms. The interruption by their other life was still palpable in the way she held herself, not quite allowing him to embrace her fully.

“You can expect a call by this evening,” she said.

“Do you have to go in?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“I can monitor the situation from here,” she said. “Tanner will brief you.”

Serious enough to call James in but not so serious that she was going to deal with it personally. Though a part of him was starting to suspect that she was grooming Tanner for her retirement. He wouldn’t ask her, though. Retirement, her age, those were two subjects James avoided. He didn’t like the changes either threatened to bring.

“Should I leave?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she sighed.

James smiled as she finally fully relaxed into his side. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, then he reached into his pocket and brought out a small, velvet box for her.

M pushed herself away to get a better look at the box then she cocked an elegant brow at him. But he knew she was aware it would not contain what it might look like. There was no hope in that. James had resigned himself to what they had, and M had probably never wanted more.

They never discussed that either. They never talked about what this was or what it meant to them. It wouldn’t have been wise. James never even called her by her name. In all these years she was still only M lest he slip up at work and ruin everything.

M pushed open the lid to the box and gasped quietly. James smiled, though he tried to make it a smirk so as to not appear too sentimental.

“They’re beautiful,” she said in a hushed voice.

She removed the two small teardrop shaped earrings.

“I’ve never found a gem I thought exactly matched your eyes,” he said. “I had to get them for you.”

She slipped them onto her ears and James admired her before she spoke.

“I can’t wear these to work,” she said. “It would look obvious that they were not just some gift from a friend or general purchase.”

“I was actually thinking that you might wear them on a trip,” he started, and he hoped he could get the words out with the confidence he knew he needed to convince her.

“A trip?”

“Maybe at the end of March or the beginning of April to Paris,” he said. “And maybe you’d need to take a body guard.”

His stomach was tied in knots and only his years of training kept him from showing just how much he wanted her to agree.

He saw right away, however, that she knew what he meant. An anniversary trip, of sorts. Two years since they started this. The only good thing to come out of that day.

James remembered the look in M’s eyes that day. The betrayal by her husband caught unsuspecting by himself and M. She wasn’t supposed to be in Paris, the man had argued. As if that somehow made his liaison excusable.

M had turned on her heel and James had been forced to follow since he was there as her bodyguard. Otherwise, he would have had more than words with the man.

“He’s a fool,” he’d told M as they stood in the park under the Eiffel Tower.

Behind them was the hotel M was staying in, and apparently her husband and his mistress as well.

M had looked sharply at him at those words, assessed him, her eyes widening as his truthfulness sank in.

When they returned to the room, James told her that he was hers in any way she needed. For work she ordered him to kill and to fuck, she could have his same service in her personal life.

She closed her eyes and shook her head and James assumed that would be the end of it, unless she decided to professionally censure him as well. Then she was stepping into his space and her body language called for him to take her into his arms.

It had been everything he’d ever dreamed and more. The ‘more’ being that there had actually been more than just that one night.

But he’d known that they couldn’t cross any more lines than they already had and now he had pushed it right up to the edge.

“That might be a possibility,” she said noncommittally.

James didn’t let his disappointment show.

M stood up and walked to the tree. There was a small gift to him there, he’d seen it the previous night when he’d been setting up for her arrival. She returned and handed it to him.

He removed the wrapping paper to find a similar velvet box to hers, but this was larger and flatter. He wondered what it might be. He wasn’t one for jewelry at all, and he was certain she knew that.

The moment he saw the contents of the box, his eyes widened in surprise and he looked up at her.

“M,” he breathed, his voice more hushed even than hers had been.

He saw in her eyes that she understood the significance of the gift she’d given him.

“You probably can’t wear them to work,” she said. “But they would be good for that trip to Paris.”

He smiled at her, still surprised. He’d never thought this meant the same to her that it meant to him. But here in his hands was proof that she still thought of that night, of the first time they’d crossed the line neither of them had ever planned to cross and that it meant the same to her.

James looked back down into the box and chuckled at the Eiffel Tower shaped cuff links. Then he leaned over and kissed her deeply.

To an outsider, their relationship would probably seem more than a little twisted. James couldn’t fault them. Tonight she’d send him out to kill for her and all other manner of morally questionable things, and he would gladly do it. Anything for her. Then he would bring what was left of himself back to her and she would rebuild him and send him out to do it all over again.

Not normal, he thought, but nothing else would ever make James happy.

_Shoot me down, spit me out, love me back, yeah_   
_Twist the knife, break my heart, put it back, yeah_   
_I'm a loser, I'm a liar, I confessed it_   
_Took shit to numb the pain, but it came with side effects_   
_So I'll bleed for you_   
_I'll do anything, just tell me what you need_   
_Take the lead, set me free_   
_Blood on the land from the man that I had to kill_   
_Just to get my hands on my goddamn happy pill_

_I'm a gun, I'm a gun, won't you shoot me off?_   
_Trigger finger will, till I get my happy pill_   
_I'm a gun, I'm a gun, won't you get me off?_   
_Trigger finger will, oh, I want my happy pill_


End file.
